Search

After my last post, in which I explained how cheating on your spouse by having an emotional long-distance affair is not a sane way to save your marriage, I have decided to write an ode to monogamy. I recently got engaged, so this may clarify my commitment to those who were wondering what spurred my sudden fetish for healthy relationships. This ode may be seen as a response to the typical jerk that contaminates any conversation on relationships. He (always a he) will spit on the ground, roar a little to clear his mind from the testosterone that has been blocking common sense and then dive into a lecture. His argument typically touches on evolution first – an ironic start, as I feel that those who take prise in being a jerk should have a more thankful attitude toward natural selection. He will explain how our ancestors are not monogamous and we were never meant to be. As a man, he will elaborate, his duty is to spread his seed and not to surpress his nature. His final conclusion despises the social convention that marriage is. He will be a happy single and never be tied down. Dear jerk, listen closely.

The writers of this book were never an attractive spous. This is how to hide your disappointment.

Many things have changed the last few thousand years. We started walking up straight, went on using tools and got less hairy (at least I did). Also, the more evolved among us started to see the added value of a shared life. Looking for a partner makes one vulnerable and sharing the responsibilities to provide for food dramatically increases the odds of actually having food. If you partner up and do what you do best, a win-win situation should arise. As we developed this, we stopped playing with our own feces, started wearing clothes and had free time to develop philosophies, math and eventually literature and other forms of art. I suggest you take development as a package deal. As long as you sit naked in a corner, smearing your poop on the wall, you’re more than welcome to feast on the side effects on being controlled by your instincts.

A real man controls his urges. He may feel the need to fart in public, but being well-raised and in control, he doesn’t. In the same manner, the duty of caring for a life-long mate is something valuable, that takes devotion and steadfastness. This duty heavily outweighs the animalistic urge to copulate with as many women as possible. In fact, if you value the latter duty over the former, your duty according to the rest of us is making sure your seed doesn’t get anywhere and never has a chance to disturb mankind. As for social conventions, you owe your life to them. It’s only our civilised manners that keeps us from throwing you in a snake pit. As soon as somebody starts throwing his poop at you, run for your life.

Now, who talks like that about their intimate hygiene? I know someone, but that’s besides the point here. These have to be worst type of commercials around. They always feature a happy woman (I understand this part) that for some reason likes to tell her friends how she has found this new, amazing product. You know what? I’ll get one so we can look at it and inspect it’s newest features. After that, we’ll drink coffee, go dance or do something ordinary women on their period could never do. I always wonder: while drinking coffee, are they all wearing this new and exciting product? After the initial woman showed them to her girlfriends, do they try it on? “Would you know, this is helpful when riding a bicycle.” This leads me to my next point: I believe ever since the invention of gym class, girls have been trying to get out of them by either faking or having a period. According to every commercial I see on television, even jumping a trampoline would not be a problem, so I don’t know why you’re still trying that.

My last point about these products: why do they come in a thousand different flavours? I’m still waiting for the first tampon with a touch of cinnamon to be introduced to the market. I’d like to star in that commercial: “Girls, I don’t really know much about what you need, but I want to support you, every day of the month. I’d be even more happy to if you’d start using these. Tampons with a touch of cinnamon. At least us guys get the cinnamon part.” And fade to black.

I have to be honest, I chose this one because I thought procrastinate meant something dirty. Not that I really wanted to answer the question, I just thought it was a really funny question. In case you’re wondering, I thought it said fornicate, and I really wouldn’t know what my favorite way to fornicate is. Sex talk aside, procrastination. I hear a lot of people use Facebook as their favorite way. Not mine. I use Facebook for a LOT of things, and during class I think I post an average of 29 comments an hour, but it’s not a way to procrastinate. Neither is doing the dishes, cleaning my room or anything else that would actually improve my life while obstructing my main activities. I envy those who complain about that form of procrastination, none of them is my friend (anymore).

The main thing I do to keep myself from doing useful stuff is video games. Every other four months, I refuse to give in to their temptation and laziness and delete all games from my computer. I start reading more, writing more and studying harder, but in the end I’m just bored and install some of the games, to start with a healthier way of managing my time. I really can’t do that right now, because I have not paid my library card for this year, thus skipping quite an essential step towards the boredom. It’s weird to describe a favorite way of doing something that I’d much rather not have in the first place, and then to admit as well it’s something this trivial: you’d better enjoy this blog. I’m off ruling the world in some imaginary pixel universe.

About twenty minutes, I guess. Obviously I’m kidding. I could never live twenty minutes without internet access. Although I think life would be a lot easier without the web. Think about what we’d have if there would only have been social revolutions (democracy, equal rights, etcetera) and no technological revolutions: a happy farm life in Europe and, according to some experts, a suppressed Middle East. Of course, life must have been so much easier. You milk your cow every day, drink the milk, sow the seed and pick the cherries. Then you search the local inn for a mate, get married, have 25 babies and your done.

Instead, somewhere along the line we chose this. 12 percent of internet is porn (googled it, don’t pin me down here). This could well mean at least 24 percent of the time men spend on the internet is wasted. Ladies and gentleman: there is your solution for any economic crisis. Every time a men wastes his time watching pixels move in an awkward manner, he robs himself from at least 15 minutes of working time. That’s 12 minutes browsing up and 1 minute cleaning up. Any man can clean at least 4 toilets in that time.

In short: I like internet, but sometimes wonder if we wouldn’t be better off without it. A recent article told me that people in their twenties have a hard time getting up in the morning because of their biological clock. See how many people in their twenties are awake at 1am, biological clock my bass. Too many impulses keep people up too long, resulting in too little sleep, resulting in weird articles like that one. I try to make a difference. I turn my phone off as I get ready for bed and turn off my computer at 10pm. I made a movement out of it, there’s just no way to reach people after 10…